


We might be dead by tomorrow

by marianhenryk



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: A Lot Of Fucking Angst, Angst, Boys In Love, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, I'm Sorry, Lung Cancer, M/M, Mention of Death, Protective Richie Tozier, Reddie, Reddie Fic, Sickness, and richie caring so much omg, but not really dying, eddie being a sweetheart, i cried, just suffering, no smut here, reddie angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-15
Updated: 2018-03-15
Packaged: 2019-03-31 19:53:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13982163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marianhenryk/pseuds/marianhenryk
Summary: Eddie was sick and Richie had known that from the beginning of their relationship. There was something wrong with his lungs, they would sometimes fill with fluids and make it impossible for him to breathe, doctors weren’t sure what was happening till that day.





	We might be dead by tomorrow

  His hands were shaking uncontrollably, fingers fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, wandering over slight bumps in the fabric and circling little holes here and there that were a part of the design. His whole body was trembling, breaths coming out of his mouth in a company of silent sobs and choking noises when air had hit the gulp in his throat. His cheeks were damp with tears, the fluid still coming out of his eyes like a waterfall streaming down his chin and then neck. He was standing in the middle of his room, his face twisted in what could be only described as horror mixed with a heartbreak.

   He felt like his whole world was falling apart, he could feel his body getting weaker and weaker, his muscles shaking with the effort of not falling down to his knees in pure agony taking over his being. It was all because of three simple words that should never be combined together, not coming out from the mouth of the boy he loved the most. Those two words caused an earthquake inside his heart, creating a small crack that was quickly expanding. It was like his whole existence didn’t matter anymore, like he wasn’t even alive or awake, it all seemed like an awful nightmare and he would give everything he could for it to be a dream.

-I am dying- were the words his boyfriend, Eddie, had spoken to him before the whole thunderstorm inside him began. He was sitting on his boyfriend’s bed, looking at his feet while playing with too long sleeves of his baby blue sweater. His head was hanging low, voice silent and broken, soaked with tears that were streaming down his face.

   Richie felt like he was punched in the stomach. Dizziness took over his head making it feel light, almost like he was high, but there was also a sick feeling in his abdomen, like his insides were twisting into tight knots.

   Eddie was sick and Richie had known that from the beginning of their relationship. There was something wrong with his lungs, they would sometimes fill with fluids and make it impossible for him to breathe, doctors weren’t sure what was happening till that day. In the morning Eddie had gone over to his clinic with his hopes set high and a bright smile- a total opposite to the wrecked boy bawling his eyes out.

-It’s a lung cancer, Chee- he said after the initial shock disappeared from Richie’s face.-A fucking cancer, can you believe it? I’ve never even touched a cig in my damn life and here I am, dying because my lungs fucking despite me- he laughed sadly, looking at the ceiling, completely broken but also beautiful.

   The thing with Eddie was that he always looked beautiful. Even in that moment when he had bloodshot eyes from the crying and puffed cheeks, his hair a mess and sniffling from time to time. He was breathtakingly perfect, pure and it was so unfair that he was suffering and Richie couldn’t do anything about it.

   He would happily switch places with Eddie without a blink. It was his biggest wish- to take the sickness from his boy, to give Eddie working lungs and an opportunity to live his life till he turned 80 or more, let him be happy. He would be ecstatic to die for the love of his life.

   It was heartbreaking to know that there wasn’t anything they could do. They were helpless and Richie wanted to scream. He wanted to punch something, get the emotions out and feel a bit lighter- that’s what he did.

-For fuck’s sake!- he shouted frustrated. There was crippling sorrow in his voice combined with fury and bitter helplessness. He tugged at his hair, his vision blurry with all the tears and heart roaring in misery. He kicked the leg of his dresser and shouted again, nothing in particular- only releasing the pent up frustration and anger. He did it again and again, not feeling any pain, until he felt delicate touch on his arm.

-Chee. Chee, please stop- Eddie was speaking silently, a bit scared of his partner’s behavior but he understood it. Mere hours ago he had been in his place, sitting in doctor’s office and looking at the results of previous examination. He had felt like destroying something too and he could easily put himself in Richie’s shoes, but there was blood beginning to show on his sock and he didn’t want his darling to be in any more pain that he had to go through anyway.

   He slowly moved his hands up onto Richie’s broad shoulders and circled his neck, careful not to choke him, then leaned his head into his tensed up back and rested his forehead on it, breathing heavily and pressing his whole body into the other boy. It took a moment, seconds passed achingly slow and the ticking of the clock made his skin crawl but then Richie finally stopped kicking the furniture and tilted his head to look at Eddie.

   He was shaking too, his little body clinging to him, letting him feel all the emotions running through him. Richie knew he was making him even more stressed so he just exhaled shakily and ran his hand through his hair, tugging at the ends in irritation. He hated the situation they were in, it was making him feel like a little boy again, unable to do anything about bullies hurting his friends.

   Richie turned around to face Eddie. His face was flushed, chest heaving up really fast and eyes scanning the other’s face, examining it, looking for something to hold onto. The taller boy hunched over a bit, planted his hands on Eddie’s hips and pulled him into his solid, warm chest. Eddie quickly places his arms back around his neck and snuggled into his boyfriend putting his head on the place where his heart was located, listening to it beating fast.

   It felt like the whole world stopped, like it was just the two of them standing in the middle of Richie’s room, the place they had spent so many beautiful moments in. The air surrounding them was thick with emotions, their bodies pressed against each other in silent pleas of never letting go and confessions of fear and not knowing what to do.

-We have to fix your foot Richie- Eddie spoke after what felt like forever. He glanced at once grey sock that had red spots from blood on it and reluctantly pulled away from the warm support that was Richie’s form. He cautiously took Richie’s hand into his and laced their fingers together. They went to the bathroom, the smaller boy sated his boyfriend on the closed toilet seat, not letting go of his hand, and searched for some Band-Aids. He cleaned the wound, still not untangling their fingers, put bandage on it and patted Richie’s knee to let him know it was ready.

   During these few minutes they were both silent. Richie’s thumb was drawing small circles on Eddie’s hand, he would sometimes squeeze it back in response and smile at him, the sadness and ache visible in his every move. But Richie didn’t stop him when he was working his magic, he had known his boy for a long time and he knew that Eddie had to busy himself for a bit, get to terms with the situation- that is, if it was possible to come to terms with dying.

   They then moved to Richie’s bed and laid there for a long time, not speaking, only sniffling a bit and shushing the other’s sobs. Their legs were intertwined and Eddie’s head was once again resting on the other’s chest, his hands clutching his shirt in a tight grip.

-Isn’t there any chance for you to beat it?

   Eddie blinked, a bit shocked that Richie was the first one to break the silence, but he quickly processed the question and sighed deeply.

-Well, technically speaking, of course there is, but the real question here is how high the chance is, you know?- his voice was muffled with Richie’s t-shirt but he didn’t bother to lift his head.- The doc-The doctors said that I have like, 56% of surviving it.

-Is that good?- Richie responded, his heart breaking. He felt nauseous looking at his most precious gift in life going through such pain. He softly touched his back, pressing him a bit more into himself to show him support. Eddie flashed a quick, sad smile and looked Richie in the eyes.

-Well, kind of, it’s more than 50%, which is great, but there is still fucking 44% chance of me dying, which, I personally think, sucks- Eddie tried to lift up the atmosphere but it didn’t really work, making Richie feel even worse. He should be the one comforting Eddie, not the other way around.

-I’m not going to let you die, Eddie Spaghetti.

-I know.

   It was all they wanted to say so they just continued to silently cheer up one another, touch and kiss and murmur sweet nothings. It lasted for about two hours, the time passing by faster than normally, running away from them, slipping through their fingers like water and making them feel even more powerless than before.

 So when the night set and heavy tiredness came over them, lulling them to sleep like a lullaby there was only one thing left to say.

-I love you- they both said for the millionth time that evening and fell asleep, clinging onto each other through the whole night.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed that emotional rollercoaster, that is actually one of my fave works of mine so far so yay!  
> Let me know what you think, thanks!  
> Have a nice day :)
> 
> (also you can follow me on tumblr, I go by richieshawaiianshirts)


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